The Adventures In Space and Time of John Watson
by Drake Brecht
Summary: The Doctor is troubled. He's just finished an adventure with John Watson, the famous nineteenth-century novelist. So how come there is also a blogger from the twenty-first with the same name and life story? Investigating this mystery, The Doctor comes-across the re-emergence of an old foe, who's going to higher extremes than ever before to erase him from existence.
1. The Story So Far

"_The Adventures In Space and Time of John Watson_"

Chapter I: "The Story So Far..."

Some things were meant to happen. In all of space and time, every now and again, strange and inconceivable events saved the Universe.

For example, Dr. John Watson M.D. was feeling rather sad. It had been over a year since his friend and lodger, Sherlock Holmes, had killed himself by jumping from the roof of St. Bart's Hospital. Their final case, which had become known as "The Final Problem", saw Holmes save John's life sacrificing himself in order to complete the task of assassins sent by the evil Jim Moriarty, whom had recently proven Holmes a fake. John believed that. Nothing anyone could say would convince John that what Sherlock told him before jumping was a lie. Moriarty died that day, too, in an attempt to checkmate Holmes. But Holmes simply forfeited the match, leaving only John and grieving friends.

That was 14th January 2012. Now it was 2013. And John was finally moving-on.

The Doctor was curious. Something was wrong. Very, very wrong. He had just finished an adventure with Dr. John Watson, M.D., who was lonesome after the death of his friend Sherlock Holmes. But as a Time Lord, the Doctor could see things others could not. For example, the line between fiction and reality was in constant flux, which is why he sometimes was able to interact with people anyone would call a fantasy.

But that didn't bother The Doctor. Watson's reality was simply the current state of the Universe. What was worrying - very, very worrying - was the fact that two Watsons now existed in the world. The one he had first met lived in the nineteenth century. But The Doctor knew of another, who occupied the twenty-first. Same city, same name, same situation. Repeating itself across time.

He didn't understand it. It wasn't possible. There was no way it could be possible. And yet it was happening. At the conclusion of his first adventure, eighteenth-century Watson had refused to travel with him. Together, they'd thwarted an evil scientist named "Dr. Simeon", who was being commanded by the brain of Moriarty, after he'd been resurrected by sentient snow. Watson was convinced that it could have done the same for Holmes, who'd died with him. To this end, The Doctor had rushed back to the TARDIS to investigate the mystery. Watson being active in this century, and knowing of another somewhere else in time, was mystifying and potentially very dangerous. Studying everything he knew about John Watson, he'd resigned himself to the TARDIS library to read the books of his adventures. His current book was "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes". It was a collection of the very first Sherlock Holmes stories to appear in the Strand magazine, rather than being long, self-contained novels. Lots of mini-adventures, which were linked by a strange series of events. Invisible mysteries: The Doctor's favourite kind.

All of this was about to reach its explanation, across a huge adventure The Doctor hadn't yet experienced. As he speed-read through all the pages of Watson's work, a small lamp above the door of the study lit-up. The Doctor saw it. He always saw it. But he didn't want to. Even if the matter of who could possibly be calling him did come to mind. Not that it was all that uncommon. It could be any number of people, mostly royalty or world leaders. Also River. But the main reason The Doctor would have preferred it hadn't had alerted him was because it was simply a distraction from him attempting to save the Universe from a terrible paradox of which he may not have even heard.

As it happens, there truly was some magic in the vortex that night. An impossible coincidence was about to happen and fill The Doctor with joy.

In spite of everything, he answered the phone. Rushed all-the-way to the console room to do it, but he still did it. Even when in doubt, he was ready to answer a call for help. Little did he know, but he was about to receive a call from the very man he was searching for.

"Hello?" asked The Doctor.

"Hi," began the person on the other end. "This is Doctor Watson from two-two-one-B Baker Street, something's wrong with the -"

The Doctor gave no time to reply. He hung up immediately, and began jamming the console with all his might. The past few minutes had proven to him that he and John Watson were still connected. And that lead him to a fantastic thought: he could save the day after-all...


	2. The Two Doctors

Chapter II: "The Two Doctors"

Watson didn't really understand what had just happened. All he'd given was his name and address, and the helpline had hung-up. Not even put him on hold or had so much as the common decency to at least say they were sending someone out. Speedy response, though. Extremely speedy, in fact. Unbelievably so. Watson was, shall we say, more than surprised at the literally impossible speed at which the technician came.

There was a knock at the door of 221b. Watson opened it, and standing there was The Doctor, dressed in a purple tweed and fibre jacket, with a bright bow-tie and lapels everywhere.

"...hello?" Watson asked. Probably just a coincidence.

"Hello, I'm The Doctor...and I'm here to fix your Internet..." The Doctor's face took a downward turn, as his face became serious and his voice became deep.

"You're a doctor, too?" asked Watson, "Doctor Who?"

"Honestly," began The Doctor, "it doesn't matter. A name's just and title, so it's the same both ways."

"The union would love you!" joked Watson, reaching-out his hand, invitingly. "Doctor John Watson, M.D. University of London."

The Doctor spun-around, and presented his psychic paper. "Doctor John Smith...doctor of...erm..." The Doctor's eyes shifted, nervously.

"...'Doctor of Everything, Prydonian University'", responded Watson, reading what he saw on The Doctor's credentials.

"...yes..." The Doctor nodded slowly, unsure, before pulling-out the sonic screwdriver and flashing-it in Watson's face.

"Hey, what are you -" John went to ask, but there was no stopping The Doctor, who pulled it away, flicked it with his wrist, and pulled it toward his face, as if reading if.

"Well, you're Human," The Doctor muttered to himself, not really paying any attention to John.

"Alright, a joke's a joke, but -" The Doctor pocketed his screwdriver, pushed-past John and entered 221b.

"This isn't a bad little house, actually!" The Doctor shouted, as he ran up the stairs "Got any jammy dodgers? Actually, tell you what, I should probably fix the Interne.." The Doctor entered the living room, and began striding about it with no sense of manners, spinning-around looking for nothing-in-particular, before clicking his fingers and pointing at something.

"Are you a real doctor?" asked John, with little hope for an answer.

The Doctor strode-over to the television, and turned it around, revealing something technological and futuristic attached to the back.

"Ooh, you've had a few cowboys in here," observed The Doctor.

"What's that?" asked John. But The Doctor simply walked-over to the sofa, and gently sat-down on it, leaving forward, with his clasped hands resting on the end of his knees. John stood at the corner of the room, and The Doctor turned his head to look at him.

"I'm sorry, Doctor Watson. So sorry...is anyone else in this house?"

"Well, there's just Mrs. Hudson, but she went out-"

"Here's what you must do: forget me, John. Don't ever remember I was here. You musn't. Your life could still be saved if you never mention me to anyone."

The Doctor's head dropped now, and his eyes closed completely.

"Who are you?" asked John, once again, now much more firmly.

"I'm the man who could save your life, but you must -"

"Save me? From what..?" John was visibly worried now.

The Doctor stood-up with a jerk, and turned to face Watson. "Nothing, so long as I leave here immediately." And with that, The Doctor began a brisk run out of 221b, followed by John.

As The Doctor began walking angrily toward the TARDIS at the end of the street, Watson came-out of the doorway, shouting to the Doctor. "But you didn't fix the Internet!"

With that, The Doctor turned-back toward John, walked toward him, as John did the same, and they both stopped and stared at each-other. "I mustn't." The Doctor spoke with a low, quiet voice.

"Why not?" replied John.

"Because..." The Doctor rephrased himself. "I know what's at stake, now."

"Prove it to me," demanded John. "Prove it to me, if you really do know all about my life."

The Doctor leaned-forward and whispered into John's ear, whose eyes became tearful, before The Doctor withdrew.

"Your life in my hands...John Watson."

The Doctor walked back to the TARDIS, stepped inside, and it simply disappeared in-front of John, who was left crying in the street.

Without any doubt, John Watson knew that The Doctor was his only hope.


	3. Broadcast of Terror

Chapter III: "Broadcast of Terror"

It wouldn't be until evening that John would see The Doctor again. Mrs. Hudson had called to say she'd be back late, so it was just him in 221b that night. He hadn't really done much. How could he, after what The Doctor had told him? Suddenly and terribly, he began to feel very alone. But at-least he'd been able to continue writing his book, which was in fact semi-autobiographical. Simply titled "John H. Watson: My Adventures With Sherlock Holmes", it was attempt to detail every case they solved together, telling the truth, rather than romanticising about them on his blog.

Unfortunately, he couldn't as-yet email his publisher with the latest update, as his Internet still wasn't fixed. Although, frankly, whether or not it ever would be was the least of John's worries.

The television turned-on.

At first, there was just static, but then, a strange logo appeared. A strange T shape, made-up of hexagons and all, sort of, digital. There was a rhythm of four playing over it, before eventually someone appeared on screen.

A man in an unusually plain suit sat at a desk, with his hands clamped in a casual pyramid, and elbows on the table. Charismatic, and clearly insane. Insane, because John recognised him. Of course he recognised him. But how? Somehow, just by a hunch, John couldn't help but think that, although he did remember who this man was, he shouldn't. For some, strange reason. Perhaps that's why he was lured to the television screen that day. Creeping closer to it, perplexed by what he was seeing.

"Hello, Doctor Watson." Began the man on the screen.

"What the hell..?" John slowly crouched-down to look at who he saw.

"Yes, you do remember me. But you shouldn't."

"How are you..."

"And there is a good reason for that. If you want to save the Universe, there's only two things you need: your submission and complete obedience to my will."

Outside, on Baker Street, The Doctor had been slowly monitoring 221b from the TARDIS. Not exactly hacking, but more "information collecting". The scanner on the console showed him what was on the 221b TV. The Doctor knew exactly who the man on it was. He knew that he must have been related to the apparent paradox, and most of all, he knew John Watson was in more danger than he'd ever been. And he began his run from the console room, all the way to John's living room.

The television man continued. "You've met a man called 'The Doctor', haven't you?" Now that struck a chord with Watson. "If you know anything about that man, there's a chance the Universe may be saved." John just couldn't trust what this man was saying. But he had a clear interest in The Doctor. But if only he could contact him...

At that moment, The Doctor burst through the front door, and Watson heard him screaming-up the stairs.

"John, step away from the TV!"

John continued staring at the screen.

"Whatever you do, do NOT go near that television -" The Doctor burst-into the room. John turned-around to see him, and even the man on the screen was clearly taken-aback. So much so, that both he and The Doctor had forgotten about Watson and were now focused on each-other.

Television-man turned to look at The Doctor, still on the screen. The Doctor's face became longer than it usually is, with a terrible, moody blue cast-over it.

"...Doctor..." said the TV man.

"...Master..." responded The Doctor.

"Okay," began Watson, "I don't quite know what's going on-" The picture on the TV cut-off, leaving a black mirror, as Watson became drowsy.

The Doctor rushed-forward, as John fell toward him, unconscious. The Doctor caught John in his arms. But he was only half-focused on Watson. He began staring past the ceiling, his face slowly rising. No going back now.


	4. Playing Doctors

Chapter IV: Playing Doctors

The Doctor was investigating John's room. You can always judge a man by what he keeps in his bedroom, that's what he believes. Also by the quality of his enemies and the books he reads.

On John's bedside table was a book. Complete, too. "John Watson: My Adventures With Sherlock Holmes". A semi-autobiographical tale of his experiences over the past three years. The Doctor speed-read it. To an ordinary person, it may seem like a slightly romanticised account of the past, but to The Doctor, it was as if someone had remixed history. And he knew precisely who.

Putting it down, he also noticed a bullet. Used.

From out of his (bigger-on-the-)inside pocket, The Doctor pulled a monocle, held the bullet up close, and examined it. If you'd been there, he could have told you the the war it was from, what gun fired it and where it was manufactured. This was the bullet that shot John Watson.

John woke up on a bunk bed. The walls were white with strange, alien roundels embedded in them, and the lighting was low. In the distance, there was a faint, electronic humming noise.

The Doctor appeared in the doorway.

"Good morning, John."

John covered up. "What the f-"

"Don't worry, you've only spent the night here. I figured your house isn't a very safe place to be, right now."

John slowly turned his head toward The Doctor. "Why...are you protecting me?"

The Doctor considered the notion, and tilted his head back a bit.

"I suppose I am, yeah."

John grabbed-hold of the banister of the top bunk.

"So...does that mean I'm dangerous?" he propositioned.

Given recent events, The Doctor knew his answer. "Quite possibly."

"Is that why you're keeping me in this bedroom?" John whiled.

"That is correct, yes."

John went for it.

"Well anything could happen..."

The Doctor smiled, and was quick to let out a short "No", and walked-away.

John got a text.

"_Meet me at Club. Urgent._

_ - MH_"


	5. Double-O Eleven

Chapter V: Double-O Eleven

Diogenes Club. Mycroft's lounge. John knew the drill. Just like it always was. He and Mycroft had hardly spoken since...

Anyway, John was needed nevertheless and Mycroft was hardly going to call upon anyone else.

"It's just like Bond Air all over again." Mycroft continued. John sat on a fancy armchair in the centre of the room, his eyes straight-forward, only half listening. What he was really focusing on was - "We always had a backup plan, you know. We'd had a contingency for months. But someone found-out. Now Moriarty's dead, I should know, I was thorough. But if not him, then who?" Mycroft's thoughts trailed-off into silence, but his pacing about the room continued. He stopped randomly and turned to address John. "Are you listening, Doctor Watson?"

John shook himself into his senses. "Hmm? Oh, yes...the...airline."

"Most of them use electronics to fly these days, someone must have hacked it." Mycroft was still only whispering, as always.

"And you say it went down over Canary Wharf?"

Mycroft marched on once more with his umbrella in hand, looking at the ceiling slightly. "No, it lost power over Canary Wharf. It crashed into the Thames, thank goodness. We could have had a nasty national scare on our hands."

"So...what do you think's going on?" asked Watson. It was the least he could do.

Mycroft sat down in his throne slowly. This time, he was the one with the stare. "I don't know, Dr. Watson. There's no trace of any interference. But there must be some, we were controlling it remotely. No pilot. It can't just have lost power."

Then things took a turn.

"You gave them eyes, but they cannot see." John and Mycroft turned their heads to the left to see, standing in the shadow of the doorway, underneath the archway and the classical waxworks of Mycroft's choosing, was The Doctor.

There was little for Mycroft to think.

"Who exactly are you?"

The Doctor began urgently strolling up to John, pulling the psychic paper from his inside pocket.

"I'm a man in a bowtie addressing Mycroft Holmes. You figure it out," commanded the Doctor, showing Mycroft the empty wallet. "I leave the TARDIS for five minutes."

"What could I do? It's a national emergency!" retorted John.

"Or, to put it more correctly, a matter of multiversal peril!" The Doctor tucked the psychic paper back where it belonged. "So...who's your friend?"

"Oh, that's Mycroft Holmes." John stood-up, to introduce them.

"Ah, Mycroft Holmes. I believe you know my credentials." John and the Doctor stared at Mycroft's bewildered face.

"Well...yes, but...I thought you were a myth."

"Yes, I...suppose I am, really," bemused The Doctor. He leant-in and kissed Mycroft on each side of his face exactly once while the latter caught fleeting flashes of John's jealousy. The Doctor pulled-away, patted Mycroft on the shoulder and lead confidently out of the room. "Right then, with me!"

On the roof of the Diogenes Club, The Doctor stood on the very edge of the ledge egotistically. Mycroft stayed with John, who was standing some distance from any edges, firmly gripping the door handle that led back to Mycroft's lounge.

"Canary Wharf has been a radar blackspot for years," explained Mycroft. "An institute known as 'Torchwood' built the tower just to reach it. They found that it was a gap in the Universe, or an entrance to another. But what they let through was their own downfall. It was abandoned after that for some time, until a certain Mister Harold Saxon reused it for Project Infinity. After Mister Saxon died, all files on Project Infinity were closed and we moved forwards with Bond Air. He designed that, you know."

Meanwhile, The Doctor held in his hand a satellite dish and sonic screwdriver.

"Ooh, excitations!" Mycroft moved toward the Doctor.

"Found anything?"

The Doctor kept staring at One Canada Square. "Oh yes."

"Do you think Saxon's connected to it?"

"Harold Saxon is controlling it," The Doctor bluntly stated.

"You mean he's still alive?"

"Most definitely."  
"Project Infinity worked then?"

John lurched in pain. The Doctor dropped everything and rushed toward him. "John!" He caught him (just) and helped him into the recovery position. John let out a quiet "Oh...God no..." and vomited, before passing out.


	6. Truth Time

Chapter VI: Truth Time

"You tell me what's going-on," demanded John, "and you tell me now." John was in the TARDIS guest bedroom once more.

"You just passed-out, that's all."

"That's not what I meant and you know it. Tell me everything. I heard what Mycroft said. He said Harold Saxon could be behind this. Now that man is dead, but I saw his face on the television screen. Tell me -" The Doctor cut him off.

"Fine. You want to know the truth? This is it." The Doctor slowly moved his hands toward John.

"Doctor, what are you, stop. Er, Doctor, I don't know -" it was too late, and John's mind was flooded was visual information and flashbacks from The Doctor's life. The latter was narrating it.

"The Doctor is my name. I'm a Time Lord, from the planet Gallifrey. So was Harold Saxon. I've visited this planet many times. In 1869 the Queen of this country, Alexandrina Victoria, established the Torchwood Institute to defend Great Britain from extraterrestrial threats such as myself. Torchwood One was based at One Canada Square in Canary Wharf. The tower was built to reach a radar black spot, I believe Mister Holmes explained this to you. What they found was a gap in the fabric of reality. A point caused by the weight of the entire Cyber-Legion crossing between their universe to ours. They pressed themselves onto the world by using its superstition of ghosts to maintain themselves in our dimension. They had followed the path of a Void Ship containing the Cult of Skaro, the last of the Daleks, a terrible species that had destroyed my people. When the Void Ship opened, and the Cult emerged, the Cybermen fully manifested themselves. As the Cyber-Legion began to upgrade the whole world and declared themselves its central authority, the Cult of Skaro opened the Genesis Ark, unleashing millions of Daleks to the skies of London. I reversed the process that Torchwood One used to allow them into our world in order to send them back. But in doing so, I lost the person I loved. When the crisis was over, the new Minister for Defence, Harold Saxon made his policy one of openness to the public about the existence of aliens. The government had used the excuse of terrorists polluting the water supply, giving everyone hallucinations, but the public wanted to know. That was part of the way Saxon became so popular so easily. But the main reason was that Saxon and the Ministry of Defence had collaborated with the United Nations to bring-together all mobile phone services under one single Archangel Network. This was designed hypnotically, to make all Humans believe in him and trust him. He used this to conquer the Earth. I reversed everything he did so it never even happened. But after that, the Time Lords returned. I sent them back, along with the Master into the Time War. The entire war is time-locked. But the Master has escaped, and I think I know how. There's a paradox working-away at history. Your phone-call earlier alerted me to your location, but I looking for you before that. And that's because I had just finished an adventure in Victorian London with another man, a famous novelist, called John Watson. He too had lost his friend Sherlock Holmes. Another version of you in the same universe. That's just an example of the great force working-away. And I believe that's how the Master escaped. If he's contacted you, if he used the WiFi to target you, then he did that to get to me. And that puts all of us in danger. All of us."

John came-out of the vision, breathing heavily, sweat everywhere.

"So Harold Saxon is behind this?"

"Almost definitely."

"That's why you're going to Canary Wharf?"

The Doctor stared straight into John's eyes. "No. That's why we're going to Canary Wharf."

John was taken-aback. "We?"

"Yes. I promise you, everything that's been done to you isn't fair. Manipulation, experimentation...I will find whoever's done it, and I will make your life better again."

"And what do I do, then?"

The Doctor pulled the TARDIS key from his inside pocket and presented it to John.

"Don't let this out of your sight."


End file.
